


Half Moon

by dawons



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Is this my first piece with no angst?, Juho owes Reader, Juho's baby, New Student!Reader, No Angst, No Smut, Popular!Juho, Rain, Request from my Twitter!, Unwanted attention, holy shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 00:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19937092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawons/pseuds/dawons
Summary: Juho's head shoots up quickly, and his eyes widen when he realizes that he’d unknowingly thrown his drink into a girl when he was shoved forwards.





	Half Moon

Juho swirls his cup in his hand aimlessly, watching the room in front of him. Throngs of people wrap around each other, some looking completely taken with the music blaring, and some looking just as lost as he felt himself. He sits on the edge of his and his roommate’s counter, surrounded by his friends yet completely alone.

It’s not sad to him, not in any way. He’s just more comfortable being quiet than being as outgoing as those around him. He can’t imagine himself being one of the people in the dense crowd, bodies grinding against him as he weaves through the people around him.

He tilts his head back and lifts his cup, grimacing at the sickly sweet taste. It burns his throat as he drinks it, fire on his tongue. He can’t tell if he likes it or hates it, but finds himself reaching over to grab the bottle to refill it anyway.

“Hey,” one of his friends greets, leaning up against the counter next to Juho, “that’s like your fourth drink.”

Shrugging, Juho grins at him. “I’m not drunk, am I?”

“No, but I don’t want you suddenly throwing up or something… That would make me look horrible.” His friend reaches over and plucks the drink from Juho’s hands.

Groaning, the blonde leans back. His fingers grip the edge of the counter, and his vision swims when he throws his head back. Maybe he _was_ a little drunk. “Why do you even care what you look like? It’s not like we’re in high school anymore.”

“If I look bad, people stop coming to our parties.”

“Mm, I hear you, Inseong...” Juho nods thoughtfully, though he couldn’t care in the slightest. He’d much rather spend the night sleeping, finally able to relax now that their first year had finished. “Wouldn’t that be a shame...”

“Yeah, it would be, and- hey, where are you going?” Inseong watches curiously as Juho leans forward, dropping down from the counter expertly. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving...”

“I live here,” Juho blanches, “why the fuck would I leave?”

“I mean, I don’t know...” Inseong cards a hand through his hair, white strands twirling around his fingers. “To go to sleep?”

Sighing, Juho reaches for his cup again, but Inseong holds it just out of his reach. “I thought about it.” He gives up when he’s standing on his toes, still trying to grab the red plastic he can’t reach. Inseong had always been taller than him, and had always used that to his advantage in situations such as this.

The older draws his lips together tightly, finally handing the cup back to the other. Juho takes it quickly, before the older changes his mind. “But it’s better to get drunk.”

“So you _are_ drunk...”

“Maybe a little,” Juho smirks, “but who isn’t?”

Inseong sighs, knows the other is correct, and shakes his head. “You’re too much, man...”

Juho watches as Inseong walks back towards the kitchen table, where a group has gathered around two of their other friends playing beer pong. Juho turns and walks from the table, taking a deep breath before attempting to navigate through the crowd in the living room.

He wants to go to his room, just to escape the shouting and thrumming bass that he can feel through his shoes. He sways gently on his feet, steps slow. People approach him, laughing and trying to chat with him. They all knew him, but he didn’t know them. None of the girls who turned to flirt with him, and none of the guys who turn and comment on his current state are familiar to him. And it’s not that he doesn’t just not know them, he doesn’t _care_ to know them. They aren’t his friends, no matter how hard they fake it and try to get there with him.

They would just use him for _his_ friends, because apparently high school cliques still existed in college, and Juho was lucky enough to land himself with the most popular group on campus.

Er, unlucky enough. He hated the attention, hated how everything he did, others knew about almost instantly. He remembers the day he first bought his motorcycle, and had been immediately greeted by a group of girls he didn’t know upon returning to the campus, all swooning and questioning him about it. He'd been polite, answering their questions as quickly as he could, just so he could leave the first chance that presented itself to him.

He keeps his head down through the crowd, smiling politely when people attempt to strike up conversations with him. They were all so horribly, obviously fake, he can’t _stand_ it. When he finally exits the crowd, he doesn’t realize how close his drink is to spilling out of his cup until he feels somebody nudge him forward, and he’s sent reeling as he attempts to keep himself upright. The alcohol was making him dizzy; he needed to lay down.

“Fuck!”

Juho's head shoots up quickly, and his eyes widen when he realizes that he’d unknowingly thrown his drink into a girl when he was shoved forwards.

He catches himself staring, lips parted around a muted apology as he looks at the girl in front of him. H/L, H/C hair drifts in front of her face as she hangs her head to look at the stain on her clothes, bright E/C eyes widened with disgust at the sweet liquid dripping down her front.

“Ah… Shit...” She inspects her shirt, which had become stained an ugly orange brown from the cheap liquor that was thrown against it. The crowd behind them had barely quieted down, still shouting over the deafeningly loud music, which Juho feels is rivaled by the beating of his own heart.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Juho drops the now empty cup, peeling off his own jacket. He hands it to her, grimacing. “I’m so, so sorry...”

Finally noticing him for the first time, she looks up, narrowing her eyes. “It’s fine,” she remarks bitterly, angrily taking his jacket. “ _Thanks_.”

He’s fucked. He’s so fucked. “I’ll help you clean up, I-”

“No.”

“Please?”

She bites her lip, scoffing. “It’s _fine_.”

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the apartment’s bathtub, you find yourself scrubbing at your once beautiful white shirt with a rag, leaned over it. Juho had given you one of his own shirts, and you’d happily changed into it in his bedroom while he’d fussed over your dirty shirt in the bathroom.

Speaking of,Juho’s apologizing profusely as he kneels on the floor in front of you, attempts to wipe out the stain with soap, but nothing’s helping. You’re tempted to ask him to buy you a new shirt, but he was obviously determined to clean this one for you until it was spotless once again.

“I’m really sorry,” he continues, and you sigh in an attempt to stop him. It works, and he looks up to you with worried eyes.

“Seriously, it’s fine… Accidents happen,” you grumble, leaning back when you realize that nothing’s working on removing the stain. “Shit.”

He nearly blurts out another apology, but you shake your head before he can begin again. “ _Again_ , it’s fine. Really, it was just a shirt.”

“It was a nice shirt.” He stresses, clearly more bothered over the destroyed shirt than you were. “I’ll buy you another one.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Then I’ll pay you back _somehow_.”

You don’t understand why he’s so hung up on this. He’s drunk, you can tell from how red his cheeks are, so maybe that was all it was. “You… Really don’t have to, it’s fine.”

You’re adamant on not giving in, but when he looks up to you with pleading, tearful eyes, you can’t help but finally agree. “Fuck, Christ, _fine_. Give me your phone.”

With confusion written across his face, Juho reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, hesitantly unlocking it. You take it gently from him, making sure he can see the screen as you navigate to his contacts, adding your phone number to his list.

After you add your name to his contacts, you send yourself a text from his phone so you can save his number later. “There,” you hand the device back to him, smiling softly in an attempt to calm him down, “I’ll text you if I need any help with anything, okay?” You decide that if there’s no way to sway his desire in making up the ruined shirt to you, then you could at least control when and where he’d be helping you out. And, it was only one favor, right?

Surely, being involved with him until his one favor was over couldn’t be that bad. You didn’t know him well enough to think otherwise; you’d only begun going to this school about two months ago. You didn’t have many friends at the new school, and so everyone you’d come across was a complete stranger to you. It had been a shock when you’d received an invite to an end of the year party from some number you didn’t have saved, but you weren’t complaining. You’d met a few people while you were here, and they didn’t seem so bad.

Juho, though, was different than the others you’d met. He seemed not to care about how he presented himself, dressed in a simple black shirt and ripped jeans while everybody else seemed too dolled up in one way or another. You found it admirable, how he didn’t seem to care, but was still here desperately trying to make amends with you.

The longer you spent working over the shirt with him, the easier it becomes to like him.

He leans back after he’s decided the soap wasn’t working well enough, looking up to you. He doesn’t look as drunk as you’d previously suspected, but he was still under the influence well enough to slur his words ever so slightly as he said them. “Text me.”

“I will.” You assure, grabbing your shirt as you begin to leave the room. His shirt hangs off of your shoulder, far too big for you, and his jacket is wrapped comfortably around your waist. “After all, you _do_ owe me,” you tease, to which his head snaps up quickly as he looks at you.

“I _know_ ,” he whines, pouting as he watches you leave.

The moment you’re back in the open of the party, people begin to give you strange looks.

It’s hard to pick up their comments over the blaring music, but you know they can’t be good from how people are looking, practically staring. Especially other girls, who seem to be foaming at the mouths as they analyze you. In passing, you hear some of what they’re saying.

“Who even _is_ that?”

“She disappeared with Juho upstairs...”

“And now she’s wearing his clothes...”

Quickly, you turn to look at the group you’d heard the last two sentences from, raising your hands defensively. “It isn’t like that!” You try, but they scoff and turn away, whispering to one another more privately as they continue to watch you. “Uh...”

Turning to look at the rest of the people around you, they’re all in similar positions. They all huddle together when you come close, murmuring and glaring as you walk past. Nervously, your pace quickens until you’re practically running to the front door, throwing it open and slamming it shut behind yourself.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, leaning against the wall beside his door. Your apartment was in a building nearby, and though it wasn’t a long walk, you dreaded going back alone. Why had they all acted like that? Even if it was what they expected, why would they care?

You scuff your shoe against the ground, uncomfortably adjusting Juho’s shirt over your shoulder so it doesn’t hang so much. As little attention you could bring to yourself on the walk back the better it would be, and so you untie his jacket from your waist and slide that on over your arms, zipping it up before throwing his hood over your head.

You hadn’t realized just how big the jacket was on you the first time you’d worn it, but it practically swallows you. Your hands are lost somewhere in the sleeves, and his hood hangs down over your eyes rather loosely. Did Juho really fit into this normally? You suppose he _had_ been kneeling down for most of the time you’d been around him, and that you were quite short anyway… But still, was somebody being so tall even healthy?

You begin walking back to your apartment, leaving his complex before nearly running to get to the sidewalk, not wanting to come across anybody who may be lingering in the driveway.

Of course, somebody notices you, though. “Hey.”

Hesitantly, you turn to look at them. It’s a man’s voice, and when you look to him you see a dark haired boy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, the end lit up and smoking heavily. “Hi?”

“Where’d you get that jacket?”

“I...” You don’t know if he’ll believe you if you tell him the truth, but you try anyway. “Juho gave it to me..?”

He nods, leaning further back against the building as he draws the cigarette from his lips, blowing out a puff of smoke slowly. It dissipates in the warm night air slowly, after drifting up and forming a slight halo around the boy’s head. “Why?”

“He spilled his drink on me.”

“Moron,” he scoffs, smirking, “oh not you.” He quickly defends, noticing your shocked expression. “No, I’m talking about Juho, you’re fine.”

“Uh… Okay?”

“Yeah.”

You can feel his gaze burning into your back as you begin walking again, turning out of the driveway and onto the sidewalk. Your apartment was only a block away, and you were sure nobody else would recognize your clothes as Juho’s after you left the property.

Thankfully, you’re suspicions are proven correct, and you arrive home without any other awkward confrontations. And, seemingly the moment you shut your front door, your roommate comes barging into the kitchen. “You and Juho-”

“We did _nothing_!” You cry out, pointing a finger at him, “how would you have even heard about that!?”

He holds up his phone, and you skim over the texts in his group chat quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up when you realize that the whole conversation is about how ‘ _Y/N and Juho just hooked up?_ ’. “How do people even know my name..?”

“You aren’t exactly unknown,” your roommate scoffs, crossing his arms, “people _know_ you, at least your name. But seriously, what happened?”

When he notices your clothes, he blanches. “You can’t even lie to me!” He points at your jacket with accusation, gasping.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, you decide to avoid his questions, slipping by him to go to your room. Your eyelids feel heavy, and you can barely keep them open as you walk to your bedroom. The night had completely wiped you out, and you were relieved it was finally over. “Chanhee, I’m not dealing with this right now.”

“But- hey! We aren’t done!” He calls after you, still standing idly in the kitchen. “ _Hey_!”

“Goodnight!” You shout, slamming your door. Quietly, muffled from the walls separating the both of you, you hear a dejected ‘ _goodnight_ ’ as Chanhee must slink away to his room as well.

You slide off your jeans and grab a pair of black shorts from your dresser, pulling them off quickly before sliding into bed. You keep Juho’s jacket on around yourself, deciding that it’s too cold in your apartment to put on a T-shirt.

Before you try to sleep, you reach over to your nightstand and grab your phone. You’d forgotten it at home that night, and when you check it you see your text from Juho’s phone lighting up your display screen. Quickly, you add his number to your contacts and send him a quick text, setting your phone down and attempting to go to sleep moments later.

**ME:**

**hey, it’s y/n.**

When your phone beeps loudly, you jump and check it quickly, sighing at the other’s response.

**JUHO:**

**oh hi its juho**

**ME:**

**.**

**i know**

**JUHO:**

**oh haha okay :^)**

**did you just get home?**

**ME:**

**...yeah**

**JUHO:**

**okay**

**um**

**im trying to sleep though, so…**

It isn’t worth it to respond, so you turn your phone off before finally going to sleep.

* * *

“It’s _pouring._ ” You mumble, staring out across the parking lot of your apartment complex. Chanhee hums, hood drawn up over his head as he watches the rain come down onto the pavement. “I don’t even have my umbrella.”

“Why not?”

“Because you used it to kill a spider and it broke when you threw it into the wall?” You huff, turning to look towards the boy. He grins, hiding his expression behind his hand.

“Oh yeah...”

Before you can reprimand him any further, he takes off into the downpour. “Hey-!” You call after him, standing under the overhang in front of the complex’s door. Angrily, you cross your arms and watch your roommate disappear, and a moment later his car whips out of the lot. “Oh, you…”

Suddenly realizing that your own car was out of gas, and that Chanhee had just sped off down the road, you bite your lip. “Fuck...”

An idea comes to you, but you push it down quickly. Did you need to go out _that_ badly?

On one hand, you need a new outfit to wear to your friend’s graduation party tomorrow night. Yet, on the other hand, couldn’t you either wear something you already had or go tomorrow? But, what if you couldn’t find anything..? You tap your foot in thought, until you finally, begrudgingly, pull your phone out of your back pocket and call your most recently added contact. It had been a few days since you’d talked to him, and you hadn’t called in your favor yet. So, you suppose this will do just fine.

“ _Hey?_ ”

“Juho,” you murmur, “can I ask you for a favor?”

It takes him a moment to respond. “ _Uh, yeah._ ” You notice he’s much quieter than he’d been the night you met him about a week ago, his tone lower and softer. Though, maybe you just didn’t remember his voice. “ _What’s up?_ ”

“I...” You feel bad asking, but shake your head. If he hadn’t ruined your shirt, you could have worn that. This was on him, and you both knew it. “I need a ride somewhere.”

“ _Oh!_ ” He clears his throat, and you hear him shift, the sound of cloth moving filling the gaps between his words. “ _Yeah, no problem. Text me your address?”_

“Yeah,” you nod, not realizing he can’t see you, “I’ll send it to you right now.”

“ _See you soon._ ”

“Mm-hmm...”

When he hangs up, you quickly send him the address of your apartment complex, followed by a curt thank you, and go to sit on the bench beside the door.

Though raining, the day is hot. You’re sweating just waiting underneath the canopy. Flowers spring up in the garden beside the entrance, waving around wildly in the wind and rain. Though, it had been hot and sunny for the last few days, so you’re not worried. They needed the water desperately.

You realize that you still had Juho’s jacket and shirt, folded neatly upstairs in your bedroom, and hope he won’t want them back that day. You’re also hoping that nobody recognizes the both of you while you’re out, not wanting the extra attention that Juho seemed to bring along with him everywhere he went.

People didn’t like you being around him, and you’d much rather hide the fact that you knew him than to show off the slowly growing friendship.

Well, friendship was an overstatement. He was nice, and you _did_ text quite frequently, but you weren’t close to being friends. You didn’t even know his last name.

You see somebody’s shoes in the corner of your eye from where you’re watching the ground, hands clasped together on your lap. You look to them slowly, looking up before jolting forward. “Sorry!”

Juho smirks, raising an eyebrow. “You looked like you were concentrating on something.”

“Ah, nothing really...” You notice the helmet under his arm, gazing at it curiously before he slides it into his hand, pushing it in your direction.

You take it before you follow his gaze to the black motorcycle parked in front of the overhang, as close as he could get it without leaving the driveway. “You have a bike?” You stare at it, and he flushes as he nods.

“I do.” He turns back to you, the corner of his lip twitching upwards when he sees you struggling to get the helmet on. “Here, let me see it.”

He crouches down in front of you, eyebrows drawn downwards as he slips the helmet on effortlessly over your head. “You were about to put it on backwards,” he laughs quietly, beginning to walk towards the vehicle. You stand up quickly and follow him, embarrassment coursing through you. “Where are you looking to go?”

“Um… The mall,” you decide, watching him as he steps out from under the overhang, grabbing his own helmet from where it was dangling off of one of the bike’s handles. He pushes his hair back with one hand, pushes the helmet on with the other, and steps over the motorcycle.

When he turns to look at you, he outstretches his hand and you take it, stepping out into the rain. The sound of it pattering against your helmet makes you wince, but it’s easy to ignore when you realize that you’re holding Juho’s hand tightly. He doesn’t seem phased, helping you onto the vehicle before bringing your hand down to his waist. “Hold on to me, okay?”

Your hands drift gently down around his sides, and when he feels you lock your hands together, he starts driving. It’s slow at first, peaceful, but the moment he gets onto the road he speeds up and you’re suddenly pressed directly against him, squeezing your eyes shut. You hope he can’t tell how nervous you are, never having ridden on a motorcycle before this moment.

You’re not sure if it’s the way it feels to be pressed right against him, the scent of his cologne washing over you gently, or if it’s your nerves that make your heart race. When you open your eyes hesitantly, and slowly grow used to the feeling of the motorcycle drifting easily along the road underneath you, you realize it was the aforementioned reason your pulse is so quick.

Did you like Juho?

No, you barely knew him, how could you like somebody without knowing them? But, even then, crushes weren’t impossible… You bite your lip, shifting your arms around his waist. You didn’t want to be the spectacle at the center of everybody’s attention, as Juho and his friends seemed to be.

Your college was located in a small town, and it seemed to be the only thing there besides a few small shops and homes. The college had apartment complexes built around the area, cheap enough for students to live during the school year and summer, as you and Chanhee did. But, to get to any major stores or even grocery stores, you needed to take the highway that led out of the town.

Nervously, you press yourself closer to Juho as he speeds up, the highway almost completely empty in front of the bike.

He glances into the side mirror on the bike, locking gazes with you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. His left hand slides from its handle on the bike slowly, falling onto your locked hands for a moment comfortingly before jumping back up.

The sudden touch makes you gasp, fingers unclasping for a moment before coming together tightly again. You’re sure you can hear Juho laughing over the sound of the engine and the rain coming down.

You’re worried to catch feelings for the other, but know that it wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing. Besides, he must’ve known hundreds of people, what would make you special to him?

The thought makes you suddenly self conscious, and you sigh, closing your eyes as you rest your head against Juho’s back. Even if you did like him, he wouldn’t like you back.

You open your eyes again when the bike pulls to a stop, and you hear the engine turn off. Juho sighs happily in front of you, reaching up to pull his helmet off before carding his fingers through his hair. He looks over his shoulder at you, grinning. “Not bad, right?”

You mimic his actions, pulling your own helmet off slowly. Your hair is a mess; Juho laughs as you scramble to fix it. “Well, the ride wasn’t, but you’re a horrible driver.”

“What!? I am not!” He grumbles defensively, but when he sees you crack a smile he begins laughing. “I’ll show you reckless driving.”

“Oh? Will you?”

“Do you want me to?” He slides off of the vehicle, helping you down from it gently before reaching forward to open the seat. He slips the helmets into the storage compartment and grabs out a black hat before shutting and locking it, dropping his keys into his pocket. You wait for him patiently, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground.

“Aren’t you cold?” Juho mumbles, handing you the hat before lifting his own hood, stuffing his hands into his hoodie’s pockets as he looks you over. You’re wearing ripped jeans and a yellow tank-top, tucked neatly into the black pants.

“Not really,” you lie, not wanting to bother Juho with anything else. You slide the hat on, adjusting the tag on the back so it fits on your head snugly. The both of you begin walking towards the sloping entrance to the mall. “Thank you.”

Juho turns to look at you, shaking his head as he smiles. “I owed you, remember? You don’t have to thank me.”

“Still,” you mumble, pouting, “it’s such a nasty day...”

“I love driving in the rain,” Juho hums, shrugging. “I was planning on coming out today anyway, why not do it with some company?”

He has such a kind attitude, the complete opposite of what’s expected from his exterior. He looks rough, mean, but after talking to him it’s easy to tell that he’s just a big softy. “Really?”

“Mm,” he nods, humming gently, “it’s so calm...”

“What about when there’s lightning?”

“Now, that’s a little scarier,” he remarks, opening the door to the mall for you, stepping in after you as he pulls off his hood, “but it’s kind of fun. You can _really_ hear the thunder if the roads are dead.”

You nod, beginning to walk aimlessly towards the collection of clothing stores at the other side of the mall. Juho walks at your side, easily keeping the same pace as you. “So, what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, do you like the rain?”

Shrugging, you feel around in your jeans pocket, making sure you feel your credit card pressed against your phone still. “It’s relaxing when it’s not too loud, but… I don’t like it when the power goes out.”

You hear him hum in agreement, and catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye. It makes your heart race, but you try to ignore it, telling yourself that he wasn’t watching you.

* * *

“Here, try this, Y/N.”

Juho had been more involved in the process of finding your outfit than you’d expected. He has an extremely unique style, and when he tries to apply it to you… You can’t help but agree with almost each article he chooses, amazed at how much you’ve enjoyed trying on each outfit he’s helped you create.

You turn to him, and he hands two hangers to you. A yellow skirt and black sweater end up in your hands, and Juho cocks his head to the side when you hold the shirt up to yourself. “Is it the right size..?”

“They didn’t have any smaller, but try tucking it in.” He seems unsure himself, but you trust him enough to walk back into the dressing room you’d been given the key to. The workers at the store had watched you go back into the room over ten times, and had at this point just stopped approaching you about the room, stopped asking if you were done with it. They knew you weren’t.

You shut the door behind yourself, leaning against it as you pull your shirt off, slipping on the sweater instead. Your heart hadn’t stopped pounding since you’d gotten off of Juho’s motorcycle. You had been sure you didn’t have feelings for him earlier in the day, but now… You were ready to say you did.

You’d been in the mall together for hours, and conversation had been flowing easily between the both of you the entire time. You learned he had two kittens that he’d snuck into his apartment about a month earlier, confident in his abilities to keep them hidden from the landlords. He wrote songs, played the piano and produced his own music. It was all unpublished, mostly just a way for him to relieve stress.

Your argument that you couldn’t fall for somebody without knowing them begins to fall in on itself. Because, at this point, you’d gotten to know the other quite well. And, you suppose he’d gotten to know you at well. You were quiet, enjoyed painting, reading and writing, almost every hobby involved with the arts that didn’t involve being the center of attention. He’d asked you about your drawings, showing a lot of curiosity and interest in it when you brought it up. It had embarrassed you, but it also made you unusually happy. He was one of the first people to ever actually show interest in your hobbies.

When you slip on the skirt, folding your jeans up nicely before setting them next to your shirt on the bench in the room, you’re nervous to look into the mirror behind yourself. Though, when you do, you’re once again pleasantly surprised.

The sweater is lose, but still shows off your form, especially where it’s tucked into your skirt. The golden color almost melts against your skin, and you can barely tear your eyes off of yourself as you inspect the outfit in the mirror.

Juho has the same reaction when you open the door and show him the outfit, but he tries to act as if he isn’t as interested as he truly is. “It looks nice,” he nods, but you catch the way his eyes linger on you, the soft part of his lips as if there’s more he wants to say, but he just doesn’t know how to get it out or how to word it.

The party wasn’t formal, but you still wanted to dress up nicely. And, if nicely was a step up from jeans but a step below a dress, then the skirt seemed like a perfect candidate for an outfit. “Do you think I should buy this, then?”

You figure that the both of you had exhausted the store completely, you having tried on so many articles that were on display in the shop. Juho takes a soft breath in, again seeming as if there’s something else he wants to say, but he cuts himself off and just nods. “Yeah, I’d get that one.”

Curious as to what he wanted to say, but not wanting to force him to say it, you smile and duck back into the dressing room as you change back into your jeans and tank-top, stepping out quickly with your new outfit bundled in your arms.

There isn’t a line, and so you quickly buy the clothes before leaving. Juho brings up that there’s a food court on the second floor, and when you realize you hadn’t eaten all day, you practically drag him to it.

At one point while you’re walking, Juho’s hand slips around yours, and he slowly takes the shopping back from the clothing store from you. You turn to him, confusion written across your face.

“I’ll carry it,” he mumbles, drawing his lips together tightly as he stares at the space ahead of the both of you. It’s endearing, and you’re thankful he isn’t looking at you, as you feel yourself begin to smile near uncontrollably. You approach an escalator, and Juho steps up onto the step behind yours, checking his phone quickly as you arrive at the second floor.

You end up just buying a water and a pretzel, while Juho buys a small cup of ice cream from one of the nearby shops. You sit at one of the benches that overlooks the first floor, giving you a perfect view of the security office. A teenager with dyed hair is seated at one of the chairs, and you and Juho begin to speculate as to why he’s there.

“Maybe he shoplifted?” You murmur, taking a small bite of your pretzel.

“Nah,” Juho shakes his head, pointing his spoon in the boy’s direction, “he probably fought somebody in that store that all of the scene kids like.”

You giggle, biting your lip. “What do you think they were fighting over?”

Juho looks thoughtful for a moment, taking a small scoop of ice cream before pushing his spoon between his lips. “Anime.”

“Anime?”

“He clearly thinks that Attack on Titan is the superior anime.”

Incredulously, you turn to look at Juho. “You don’t think it is?”

Your words strike a nerve with him. He turns to you slowly, eyes wide with shock. “No? Are you serious?” He looks like you’ve physically wronged him in some way, like he’s prepared to fight at any given instant.

You try not to smile at how worked up he is, but can’t resist. “Juho, I don’t watch anime.”

“We should change that,” he shakes his head, before returning his attention to the security office, “oh my God he’s running.”

“What?”

You look back quickly to watch the kid bolt from the room, immediately being chased by one of the security guards. “Oh my God, good for him.”

“He’s fast.” Juho remarks, whistling softly. “He seems powerful.”

You agree, leaning back as you close your eyes, taking another bite of the pretzel. You don’t catch how Juho looks over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Do you have anything else you need to do here?” He inquires, turning away when you open your eyes. You shake your head, smiling at him.

“I think that’s it; do you?”

He shakes his head, and you wonder if you see disappointment flash along his features for a moment. But, once again, you assure yourself that it’s just your imagination as he goes back to eating his ice cream.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Juho glances over at you. “We should do this again sometime.”

Happiness explodes in your chest, and your pulse once again rises. You look up to him. “I’d love to,” you agree, kicking your legs aimlessly in front of yourself.

The two of you eat in silence, and when you finish, Juho begins to lead you back out of the mall.

Halfway back to the door, after stepping off of the escalator, Juho stops walking and promptly turns around as he reaches up and pulls his hood over his head. His gaze flickers from store to store before he leads you into the nearest one, biting his lip.

“Juho?” You whisper, following his gaze out into the long corridor of the crowded mall. “What is it?”

“Some group of guys...” He murmurs, scrunching his face up in distaste. “They won’t leave us alone if they see us, trust me.”

You finally notice who he’s looking at, and recognize one of the faces from the party. They’d been whispering when you walked by, and so, you subconsciously step behind Juho, peering around him to watch them walk by. “Do you think they know we’re here?”

“I mean, I hope not...” He whispers back, reaching back to grab your hand. You’re too busy watching the group to notice, but your fingers wrap around his softly. “God, I _hate_ the attention...”

“Really?” You look up at him. “I would have expected you to like it. You must have a lot of friends, right?”

He stiffens, and when he shakes his head his hood slides back over his head slightly. He adjusts it with his other hand, the shopping bag around his wrist knocking gently against his chest as he does so. “No, I only have a few people I trust, the rest of them are fake.”

You wonder where you fall on the spectrum for him, until he squeezes your hand, obviously noticing your worried expression. “You’re fine, Y/N. I don’t think you’re like them.”

Relieved, you nod, and Juho quickly pulls you out of the store, walking quickly down the corridor towards the front doors. You have to walk quickly to keep up with him, his long legs took strides that you would have to take two steps to match with.

Thankfully, nobody notices the both of you. Regardless, he doesn’t slow down until you’re standing next to his motorcycle, pulling off his hat as he hands you your helmet. You wait for him to slide his on, and he takes yours back before slipping it over your head, eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles. He throws the hat back into the seat compartment before shutting it, straddling the bike before allowing you to use his arm to pull yourself up behind him.

The rain had stopped, but the storm was clearly just beginning. Dark clouds hang low on the horizon, almost black as they swirl angrily in the sky. You jump when you hear a soft clap of thunder in the distance, and Juho quickly starts the bike, once again not starting to drive until your arms are firm around his waist.

You keep your eyes open as you leave the parking lot, watching the road ahead as Juho navigates back to the highway. Once he’s pulling onto the long stretch of road, allowing the bike to speed up just slightly, you feel one of his hands slip back down over yours. You expect him to move it after a moment, as he’d done before, but he keeps it there.

“Can you drive like that?” You call to him, your fingers toying with his idly.

You can barely hear Juho’s response over the sound of the engine, but it comes back to you just loud enough to make it out. “Nope.”

You can tell he’s joking, and so you slowly interlace one of your hands against his, closing your eyes as you lean against him. His shoulders drop slowly, comfortably, and his thumb runs circles over your knuckle as he drives.

* * *

When you finally pull back into the parking lot of your apartment complex, Juho parks as close as he can to the building before turning off the bike, sliding the keys out of the ignition.

You slip off of the motorcycle before him this time, peeling off the helmet before fixing your hair. He does the same, throwing his head back to brush his fingers through his hair quickly. The wind whips around the both of you, and you shiver in it. Juho frowns, opening the seat compartment to grab your bag and to put your helmet away.

“Oh!” You exclaim, causing him to cock his head to the side curiously as he gives you the bag. “I still have your clothes upstairs…” Part of you wants to keep his jacket, because it’s comfortable to sleep in, but the other part of you wants to see him for just a little longer.

He follows you into the complex, scoffing when you pass the broken elevator. It was a pain, but since your room was only on the second floor you didn’t mind so much. It had broken two days ago, just stopped working. The electricity in the building was old, Chanhee had told you it wasn’t the first time it had happened.

Yanking open the door, you lead Juho up to the second floor, dragging open the heavy door there, as well.

It creaks as it opens, and Juho whistles softly. “Aren’t you strong?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you quip, to which Juho apologizes swiftly.

You walk to the end of the hall, fishing for your keys in your pocket before finally finding them. Juho stands idly behind you, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waits for you to open the door.

You hold the door open for him, gently shutting it after he steps inside.

“Chanhee?” You call out, and, when there’s no response, you sigh, “thank God...”

“Roommate?”

“Yeah...” You affirm, walking towards your bedroom. Outside, the rain begins to fall. You pause in front of your door, turning to look out at the window that overlooks the parking lot. It only takes seconds for the rain to come down in torrents, streams washing down the windows as the storm berates the Earth.

A flash of lightning lights up the blackening sky, and a horribly loud burst of thunder screams as it follows the light. You suck in a soft breath through your teeth, letting it out nervously as you enter your room, grabbing Juho’s jacket and shirt off of your dresser.

Almost as if on cue, when you leave the room and return the clothes to him, the power blinks out, shrouding the both of you in darkness. “Fuck,” you huff, feeling Juho’s hand comfortingly brush against yours for a moment.

“If you want, I can stay...”

“I wouldn’t want to have to ask that of you,” you sputter, hearing the other laugh quietly.

“Hey, I really don’t mind.” He assures you, setting his jacket on the counter beside him. “Besides, it’s probably too dangerous to drive home in this right now anyway...”

You feel bad, that he’s staying for you, but you nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, an apology evident in your voice, but just in case he didn’t catch it, “I’m sorry.”

“What? Hey, don’t be sorry,” he breathes, reaching forward to grab your hand, crouching down to be eye level with you, “why are you sorry?”

At the sudden closeness between the both of you, you’re unable to come up with a coherent answer for him. You’re stuck just staring at him, lips parted around your unsaid reasoning.

“I...” You shake your head, clearing the thoughts from it for just a moment, “nothing, sorry.”

He raises an eyebrow, letting go of your hand as he stands back up straight. “The next time you apologize...”

“Okay!” You raise your hands defensively, and, unconsciously, “so-...” You stop halfway through the word, Juho holding back a laugh as he turns to look at the window.

The room isn’t completely dark, it’s colored in grayish-blue hues from the storm outside, leaving everything just light enough to be seen at least somewhat normally. You walk over to the window, falling back onto the couch in front of it. Juho follows you, and before you know it you’re leaning against his side, tired eyes scanning the room in front of the both of you.

“So...” You murmur. “You don’t like all the attention...”

You hadn’t been able to get it out of your head. Ever since he’d brought it up, hiding inside the store in the mall, you’d been curious.

“Hate it,” he confirms, looking down at you, “why, do you like it?”

“Not at all,” you sigh, closing your eyes, “but why don’t you like it?”

“I’ve been used before.” He replies simply, shrugging. “It was a long time ago, so I got over it, but… I don’t know. People used me to get to my friends.” You nod, listening carefully, enjoying the way he speaks and the way his voice sounds, low and calm, a lesser version of the storm outside.

His voice reminds you of a warm fire, of being wrapped up in blankets while outside the world is battered by cold, rough weather. He continues. “I think it’s childish, too. We’re in college, why are people still comparing themselves to others? Who fucking cares?”

He leans back, raising an arm to lay over your shoulders, drawing you closer into his side. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” you begin, “I agree with you. When I left the party, after I’d been with you, and I was wearing your clothes...”

“People thought we hooked up?”

“Yeah...” You nod.

“I was approached too, I’m sorry for getting you involved in that.” He sighs, fingers trailing up and down the side of your arm comfortingly. “So annoying...”

Agreeing, you open your eyes to catch Juho looking at you. He doesn’t try to hide it this time.

“Though…” He mumbles, “what would you have done?”

“If what?”

“We had hooked up.”

Your cheeks flood with warmth, and you look away as you grow flustered. The dark haired man chuckles quietly, but still waits for your answer. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t have told them. It wouldn’t have been their business.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

You turn back to look at him, pursing your lips. He was toying with you, wasn’t he? “What would _you_ have done?”

“If we’d hooked up?” You nod. “Well, I think I’d let you spend the night at least, I wouldn’t just kick your ass out right after it happened.” He sighs. “You think too low of me. I’m not _that_ bad,” he begins, and before he can get another word out, you lean forward and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He freezes.

You snap back to your senses after you pull away, eyes widening. He wears the same expression you do; confused, shocked, _‘did she just do that?’_. You blame how exhausted you are; you’re not in your right state of mind.

“I...” You begin, but before you can finish Juho leans down and presses his lips against yours. It’s chaste, quick, and he pulls away just as quickly as he’d come to you.

He glances at you, at your stunned expression. “You missed the first time, I was just helping you out.”

“Oh, were you?”

“Yeah.”

Before you know it, you find yourself wrapped tightly in Juho’s arms, laying against his chest with a blanket thrown loosely over the both of you. You’d been cold before, as when the power had gone out so had the heater, and the wind had been coming into the apartment in a thick draft. But, now you’re warm, Juho’s arms locking you into place against himself.

When you finally begin to fall asleep, Juho closes his own eyes, holding you close to himself as he falls asleep beside you.

The storm outside rages on, but inside, the only thing to be heard is soft, delicate breathing from the two sleeping on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, my first request @__@ i loved it.   
> this was so fun to write, but i'm sorry if juho's a bit OOC ;;;;; i haven't written reader inserts in a long time, so I'm still a bit fuzzy from the hiatus i took from them (shoutout to my old quotev xreader writing account from when i was twelve...)  
> if you'd like to send me a request (i'll write anything so long as you're asking for an sf9-related piece) just send me a dm on twitter! (@blossomfic), or to my cc! (also @blossomfic).   
> -elise


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